Friend (6)

"I'm sorry, but I'm waiting for someone."

Jain had been the first to enter the ballroom, claiming a quiet corner seat and turning down every dance request that came his way. The young noblewoman who had offered her hand bowed ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠awkwardly and retreated. Jain glanced away from her departing figure, filled a tall glass with white wine, and took a slow sip.

"Too sweet."

Thanks to the strange tolerance he'd built up during his past struggles with substance addiction, this sort of lady-killer drink barely registered. He was the Saint of the hero party that had slain two of the Four Heavenly Kings. That title alone had already drawn several admirers seeking a dance, yet Jain rejected them all.

He wanted to focus entirely on Altrich Sebald—the true target of the assassination.

This is a genuine high-difficulty event. Fail once, and there's no taking it back.

Almesia, the mastermind behind the plot to kill Altrich, was no pushover. She had to be at least a cut above Xerxes, the Fist Demon he'd fought recently. Jain wasn't particularly worried about facing her himself, but the problem was that the target was Altrich. In this real world, he had no idea what method the assassins might use, and Altrich—never a combat specialist—could drop dead as easily as a failed gacha pull.

So the moment Altrich steps into the ballroom, I stick to him like a shadow.

Jain stared at his reflection in the wine glass and made a silent vow. That was when the emcee's voice rang out, announcing the next arrivals.

"Presenting Her Holiness Elaine Enfield, the Saint, and His Excellency Altrich Sebald, Chancellor of the Empire!"

They're here.

Perhaps because he sponsored her, Altrich and Elaine entered together. Jain fixed them with an intense stare. In the worst-case scenario, Altrich might already be under some form of mental magic. His eyes darted across every detail, searching for any trace of sorcery. Fortunately, there were none.

Relieved, Jain shot to his feet and strode toward them. The fact that the man who had rejected every dance invitation was now moving drew every eye in the hall. He had covered half the distance when a hand suddenly seized his own.

"You've been turning down every dance for my sake, haven't you? Well done. As a reward, this cute and beautiful me shall graciously grant you the honor of asking me to dance!"

"What are you even saying, you rag? Why the hell would I dance with you? Go bother the hero already."

The hand belonged to Elaine. Jain shook her off without effort and continued walking until he stood behind Altrich like a sentinel. Leaning against the wall with arms crossed, he allowed himself a satisfied little smile.

Perfect. Now I just follow Altrich like his shadow and block any assassination attempt.

Meanwhile Elaine's face had flushed scarlet. She trembled with rage.

"S-so you were planning to humiliate me from the very beginning."

But Jain wasn't listening. He was too deep inside the scenario. Elaine lifted her flushed face and shouted.

"I'm not a rag! And I swear I'll get revenge later! No matter how much you apologize while crying and regretting everything, I will never, ever forgive you!"

With that, she ran off toward the rest of her party. Jain, however, kept staring fixedly at Altrich.

"Presenting the honored guest from Elvenheim—Her Grace Almesia, Guardian Saint!"

Next to enter were Naelle, Almesia, and the four elves serving as her escort. Only Naelle wore a light fairy dress suited for movement; the others remained in full combat attire. At the sight of Almesia—the sharp-featured elf with dirty-blonde hair cascading to her waist—Jain's expression soured.

That elf had used the threat against Naelle as an excuse to be dispatched here. She'd insisted on protecting Naelle from humans and had been glued to her side since last night.

"Despite her exalted position, Her Grace Almesia has graciously volunteered to oversee security for tonight's ball!"

The emcee's additional explanation triggered a thunderous round of applause. Jain was the only one who remained still, arms folded.

Security, my ass. That woman's the assassin.

He knew the truth, yet he couldn't act. Almesia led the isolationist faction and was one of Elvenheim's most powerful figures. Without solid evidence, he couldn't touch her. He would have to catch her red-handed.

"This occasion feels even more brilliant now that such a distinguished personage has graced us with her presence."

Unaware of the undercurrents, Altrich smiled and approached Almesia, offering his hand. She gave a theatrical snort and extended her own.

"It is a celebration of Miss Naelle, daughter of the World Tree, and the great achievement she has accomplished. I could hardly stay away."

She doesn't want humanity to claim all the credit.

Altrich nodded to himself and reached to accept the handshake—only for his eyes to widen in shock. Jain had suddenly stepped between them and slapped Almesia's hand away.

"Back off, you filthy whore."

If they shook hands, she might try to channel mana and seize control of his mind!

The action had been pure instinct. Altrich stammered in confusion.

"W-what are you—!"

"Hmph. An elf-hater, I see. I expected nothing from a mere human anyway."

Surprisingly, Almesia showed little anger at the rudeness and simply turned away. Naelle glanced between them in bewilderment before Almesia seized her wrist and dragged her off.

"I-I apologize for the discourtesy."

"Since we appear to be an eyesore, we shall withdraw to a distant corner of the palace with our charge so as not to disturb anyone."

"Wait, please—!"

Altrich reached out, but Almesia had already swept out of the ballroom. Once she was gone, he turned to Jain with an incredulous look.

"You were the dark mage of that hero party, correct? What on earth was that? Why would you do such a thing?"

"Because that filthy whore was about to take your hand."

Jain's eyes were utterly serious, even burning with a strange passion. Overwhelmed by the intensity, Altrich couldn't bring himself to press the issue.

"At least offer an apology later."

"If the chance arises."

To Altrich's surprise, Jain agreed without argument. The chancellor rubbed his throbbing temple and headed for the refreshment table piled high with food. His mind needed sugar. He had just picked up one of the mountain of egg tarts when—

"Hold on. Give me that."

Jain snatched the tart, took a huge bite, then examined it carefully.

Hmm. No poison.

Only after confirming it was safe did he hand the bitten tart back.

"You may eat it now."

"Just what do you think you're doing… Hmm."

Altrich recalled the report he'd received about the dark mage. It had suggested the man might be a reclusive expert from the magic continent. Perhaps this bizarre behavior counted as etiquette there. Nodding to himself, Altrich stepped onto the dais. Jain followed. When Altrich sat at a table to converse with guests, Jain sat beside him. When Altrich poured himself a glass of light white wine, Jain took the first sip before passing ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠it over.

What in the world…

Thoroughly bewildered, Altrich stood up.

"Chancellor, where are you going?"

"Just a quick trip to the restroom."

Naturally, Jain followed. While Altrich was inside a stall, Jain stood waiting with a satisfied nod.

"Man, it's great that you're a guy. Being male is honestly the best."

If Altrich had been a woman, he couldn't have followed him into ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the restroom to stand guard. That muttered remark reached Altrich's ears as well.

Huh?

A sudden chill crawled down Altrich's spine. A single line from the report flashed through his mind.

Surely not…

Altrich's face went rigid.

Having escaped the restroom, Altrich hurried straight to Elaine. He needed to confirm something. She was still fuming, fiercely chewing on potato bread.

"Ah, well… As your sponsor, I have a question for you."

"What?!"

"That dark mage. I heard his… preferences are rather unusual. Does he, by any chance, prefer men—"

Still seething, Elaine didn't wait for the rest. Tears shimmered in her eyes as she shouted.

"Yes! His tastes are genuinely weird and perverted! He's a total freak! A virgin-obsessed lunatic!"

Elaine looked stunning in her night-spirit dress. And Altrich remembered that Jain had rejected every dance request—including hers.

He turns down a beauty like her, follows me around tasting all my food, and even trails me into the restroom?

A shiver ran down his spine. He was now utterly convinced he'd caught the attention of a deranged homosexual. At that exact moment, Jain—whom he'd barely managed to shake off—entered the room and immediately ran toward him. Seized by primal terror, Altrich broke into a sprint.

"Chancellor, where are you going?"

"I have urgent business in my office!"

And, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, Jain chased after him. The two men burst out of the ballroom and into an impromptu pursuit that wound through corridors and deep into the imperial palace. It ended, inevitably, with Altrich's defeat.

Cornered at last, breathing hard, the chancellor made one last desperate stand.

"Why this old man of all people? With your looks you could find a healthy young woman and enjoy a beautiful—"

"Huh?"

Jain looked genuinely baffled. He then explained exactly why he had been shadowing Altrich. The misunderstanding dissolved instantly. Tension fled from Altrich's shoulders and he sank to the floor with a hearty laugh.

"Hah, so that's what it was. A perfectly reasonable suspicion. You should have explained sooner."

"That whore might have been listening."

"Even so, try to communicate more with my people. Living as a lone wolf has given you some bad habits. One day that lone-wolf attitude could ruin everything."

Altrich rose, then gently refuted Jain's fears.

"I haven't ruled out such concerns myself. However, Duchess Almesia swore without hesitation that she would never harm any key figure in the empire unless first attacked. Breaking that oath would cause her heart to burst. So this is likely nothing more than needless worry."

"But…" In the original story it wasn't like this. Jain swallowed the words.

"Is that really true?"

"It is. I'm a timid old man. Without that oath I would never have ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠offered to shake hands with the leader of the human-hating isolationists."

Altrich was one of only two characters whose intelligence stat had been set to the absolute maximum. The decades he had lived in this world were not a game—they were real. When someone like him spoke with such certainty, it was difficult to doubt him.

Jain fell into deep confusion. Then, all at once, he understood what had happened.

The scenario… got twisted?

In the open corridor of the imperial palace, twilight slowly bled across the sky between the pillars. According to the original story, the attack on Altrich should have occurred long ago. Jain clutched at his hair, face twisted in bewilderment, and muttered.

"Fuck. Then what the hell is going on?"

It was then that the jade pendant around his neck—the summoning talisman that would automatically cast a summoning spell if its wearer fell into danger—began to glow.

Meanwhile, Naelle had been dragged by Almesia's hand into a secret underground chamber beneath the imperial palace. She had no idea why. The four escort elves surrounded her so tightly that escape was impossible. After passing through three concealed doors disguised as a painting, a statue, and a bookshelf, they arrived at a vast hall covered floor to ceiling in platinum magic circles.

In the center stood a hexagram large enough for six people. Floating above it was a single glowing rune. Even at a glance it was clear that an extraordinary spell had been sealed inside. Dismantling the hexagram and touching that rune would grant its wielder the forbidden magic.

"It was real!"

Almesia threw her head back and cackled. Her cheeks burned with excitement.

"Exactly as that narrow-eyed demon described!"

The previous night, assassins sent by the Northern Duke had suddenly fled the city en masse. Almesia, who had planned to kill Altrich and frame the Duke, could not allow them to escape. She had pursued them—and in doing so encountered a strange, narrow-eyed demon. The demon claimed to hate humans as well and had whispered tempting secrets: there was a better way than simple assassination. Deep beneath the imperial palace lay a forbidden spell.

"These damn human worms. Humans truly cannot be trusted—hiding something like this!"

Almesia laughed again like a madwoman. It was a spell every mage dreamed of yet dared not even speak aloud. A forbidden art reviled across every land and sea.

"As Almesia, who oversees the magic of Elvenheim on the scales of the World Tree, I shall claim this spell and bring an end to any friendship with humanity!"

Because the magical text capable of teaching Terminus floated right before her eyes.

At those words, Naelle's face drained of all color.